


Bane's Books of Memories

by Blakpaw



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: Journal style fic, Speculation of a characters thoughts and life style, This is Back when Bane is a child in the pit, Threat of Starvation, Unhappy/unhealthy childhood, unstable child hood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-23 10:23:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14932445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blakpaw/pseuds/Blakpaw
Summary: A journal style fic taking us through Bane's life from 13 years old and up. Most the writings are brief, and too the point, so the chapters won't be that long at all.





	1. Entry One

13 years, 4 months, and 18 days since my introduction into the Pit,

Father has suggested I write a journal, I am not sure why and I am begrudging to use this book, as it could be used as perfectly good kindling material rather than a form of simple timekeeping, or whatever he wants me to make of it. None the less, I have learned some years ago not to question Father, as it seems to merely cause anger, and though he is a kinder member in the Pit that does not excuse me from his anger and wrath during his more unruly moments.

Despite me knowing my own name, Father has told me introduce myself, as if this book will understand. It confuses me, but I will make no comment on the requests my Father makes, as previously stated.

As of the current date, i am known as the Spanish word Niño, which means little boy, as I am the smallest and youngest occupant in the walls of the Pit, they claim me to be the youngest in history, and I would have doubt if it was not proven to me by my young age. All of us are uncertain the exact date I was lowered into the pit, but the estimated date is that of which matches the introduction, 13 years, 4 months, and 18 days ago.

My only friend these past 13 years has been a small bear provided to me before I was lowered into the pit, the other occupants have been respectful enough to let me keep them, to that they have a personal respect from me, though I respect them all as valiant warriors. My bear’s name is Osito, another Spanish word, for little bear, if my memory currently serves me correctly. Osito has provided me both with comfort and protection, with in him is a knife I have concealed for my protection, and estimated 7 winters ago was the first time, yet not the last, I had to use said knife.

Father says he wants me to write more entries from here on, not every night, but when I believe important things have happened, or when he requests it of me. I have also made a personal decision to shorten the opening of my Journal entries, I will from now on remove the section of my header following the time frame I have provided.

For today, that is all I have interest in writing about.


	2. Entry Two

13 years, 4 months, and 23 days,

The supply drop came today, that is the most valuable day of all, we will get food, fire materials, clothing, and other commodities from the drop. Me and Father will often sneak out to take books that would otherwise be burned, though I usually must protest the burning of my precious books that is only if they have previously had words in them, which is why I am still confused why Father wished me to keep this said Journal. Perhaps he means to further enhance my writing skills? Perhaps I am not as grammatically smooth in the English language as I had previously suspected myself to be. Therefore, I will strive to become more fluent, I refuse to be as unwell spoken as these ruffians that surround me, too few speak with a truly fluent tongue.

Alas, I digress, this entry is not to be of a boy’s simple ramblings on the frustrations of books and language, today is a good day. I have been given new clothes, they fit me better than my old pair, I had not realized how short my previous pair had grown until I had gained this new pair. Though this does bring me to a more personal topic, I suppose. I fear the rest of the Pit grows frustrated with me, I am growing faster, and with these growth spurts my hunger grows too. I eat more than I used to, and though I do try and stave it off, starvation will do me no good.

I fear if, soon, I do not prove myself worthy to be fed I will be here by starved.


	3. Entry Three

13 years, 5 months, and 2 days,

My fears were confirmed, to a degree. Whilst Father does not protest to my eating, many others do. I must now only eat when necessary, and even then only when others are not looking. I know soon the burning embers of this growing frustration with me will spark into a flame, and action will need to be taken, lest it grows into something violent and burns those who do not deserve it.

But, I will stamp the fire out only when I know it is truly a flame that intends to consume me. In the Pit it is better to wait for another man to attack you, being the aggressor will only cause others to hate you. On the other hand if you are attacked they will simply see it as stupidity on the part of the aggressor, and if I find my victory it just proves me to be the better man.

So now I sit in wait for the inevitable attack on my person, i can not say what they will do, and whom it will be, but I know tensions are rising and soon I will need to earn my keep in the Pit. I am nervous.


	4. Entry Four

13 years, 5 months, and 12 days,

I have slain before, of that I am willing to admit to, there is no shame in it, as it was to stave off my own dying. Today has been the same. As predicted, I was confronted for my body’s greed, a man who was some years from his prime, I suspect somewhere close to 40, became angry with me as I knelt by the disgusting waters accumulated at the bottom of the pit, washing the clothes of my Father and his friends. He referred to me, in the French tongue, as a free loading, lazy, coon. I was unperturbed by this, by indifference only caused him rage, it seems. Instead of leaving me to my chore, he approached, made to drown me in the pools, which smells of ammonia and natural decomposing waist.

I, of course, retaliated, though I may be lean I am far from weak, with some struggle, I managed to pin my attacker on his back. I proceeded to beat him to death.

My victory will only bring more, this, I know, is only the beginning. Soon, my rank among these men will be decided, and I will earn my keep. I will prove I am worthy.


End file.
